The Key to Starveldt (30 page)

Solace shook her head. ‘Not at all.’

Fortunately for the both of them, Evan had a decent sense of direction. Never having navigated the way solo, Solace knew there was a good chance she would’ve become lost inside the sprawling, twisting corridors of the temple complex. It felt like a triumph when they finally reached the suite, even though she hadn’t done anything more strenuous than follow.

‘Anyone here?’ she called out, shrugging her jacket off. There was no answer.

‘Huh,’ said Evan, collapsing onto the lounge. ‘How about that? We’ve beaten them all.’

‘Yay us,’ said Solace, flopping down beside him. After all the outside bustle, the sudden silence of their quarters made her aware that the whole time they’d been walking, her teeth had been clenched against the noise. Sensitive hearing wasn’t everything it was cracked up to be. Solace tried to relax her jaw, and was rewarded with the slow, steady pulse of a tension headache building in her temples, insistent and uncomfortable. Leaning back against the leather, she closed her eyes and tried to will it away.

Like the soft humming of a dormant electrical appliance, she felt her bond with Evan twitch into life. She didn’t know what triggered it half the time, but for all its eeriness, it was useful.

‘Headache?’ he asked.

‘Mhmm,’ sighed Solace, her eyes still closed. ‘Vampire senses and all that. It’s noisy out there. Apparently, my brain objects.’

‘I know. Here.’

The lounge cushion dipped and scrunched as he changed position. A brush of motion passed in front of her eyelids, and then she felt the soft pressure of Evan’s fingers on either temple, massaging in small, circular motions with his thumbs braced gently against her forehead. Warmth radiated from his touch. It was like pressing a bruise, but in all the right ways. The pain started to decrease. Solace blinked, opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him.

Evan was kneeling beside her, the better to use both hands. His expression was sweetly serious as he concentrated, ignoring the jagged black hair that fell across his eyes. Without thinking, Solace reached up a hand to tuck a lock behind his left ear, only to find herself thwarted by gravity. She smiled and tried again, her fingers brushing against his forehead, but more slowly this time, more carefully.

They were staring at each other, into each other, and suddenly it was very hard to breathe. The motion of Evan’s hands had stopped, while Solace’s own had frozen in mid sweep. In a sudden rush, she remembered waking up next to him, the comfort of his heartbeat under her ear; remembered, too, his tenderness on her return from Grief as he’d wiped the blood from her eyes. Solace gulped.

Evan dropped one hand to the juncture of her throat and collarbone, resting it there, while the other slid lightly down the plane of her cheek, hovering, afraid to land, afraid to let go. She felt the heat of him through her own fingertips, and found to her amazement that she was tracing the line of his eyebrow, the curving bone above his lashes, letting her touch drift across him like foam on a wave’s crest.

The bond between them crackled like fire, a jumble of longing that caused Solace to inhale sharply.
I want him
. For the sharpest instant, panic overtook her: so close, she’d as good as spoken out loud, and where had this desire come from, anyway? But before she could rebuke herself or even react, his lips were on hers – she was drawing him in, her fingers twined in the hair at the nape of his neck – and every other consideration vanished.

The kiss was soft, but deepened with a speed that denied breath. Her eyes were closed again, but through their bond, she seemed also to be partly outside herself, observing the way she’d leaned and twisted upwards to meet him, the way he was guiding her close, holding her there. Her whole body burned: every place where their skin connected ached to be touched further, and all the while her heartbeat hammered like a jungle drum, wild and exultant. She wanted more of him, and he was eager to oblige: she leaned back along the length of the lounge, and Evan followed, so that their bodies were pressed together. He tasted sweet and warm and full of life, and with every grazing of her hands against his hair, his neck, his cheek, his throat, her fingertips seemed to fizz, as though they could serve no greater purpose than this.

When they finally separated, there was no air left in the room. Evan’s blue eyes were huge and dark. He stroked her jaw with the edge of his thumb. Solace wanted to speak, but nothing seemed right. She couldn’t look away from him. Every breath sounded loud: hers, his, theirs.

‘We shouldn’t be doing this,’ she said. ‘Because of Laine.’

Evan leaned back, his expression a mix of chagrin, contrition and anger, though close as they were, Solace knew this last was directed squarely at himself.

‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘Or at least, we should tell her –’

Tell her what? The unspoken question hung between them. They hadn’t planned anything, and if Laine’s own experiences with Evan were anything to go by, then what they’d done didn’t automatically mean it was something worth telling. And yet Solace felt otherwise, she was sure of it – but could she trust the bond when it was still so new? She pulled back, both physically and mentally.
If sex wasn’t enough to make Laine and Evan a couple
, the Vampire Cynic pointed out,
then how much can one kiss be worth
?

‘Don’t think that,’ Evan said abruptly, sensing her thoughts through either the bond or her mindscent. ‘I mean – aw, hell. I really have made a mess of things.’ He gripped his arms. ‘I should’ve spoken to her that first morning, not just slunk off downstairs. And then she said we didn’t need to talk after all, and I
believed
her. Shit.’ He stared morosely at the lounge, then slowly raised his eyes to Solace. ‘I should’ve done better by you – by both of you. Laine deserves honesty. And so do you. So, listen, Lacey.’ He gulped, then grinned, offsetting his own awkwardness. ‘I, uh, like you. You’re funny and brave and interesting – and also a little scary sometimes, but in a good way – and so, whatever this is, if you think it might be worth it, I want to give it a try. If you do, too, that is.’

Suddenly too shy to speak, Solace nodded, smiling at him in a way that made the edges of her mouth tremble. And then, astonished at her own boldness, she leaned across and kissed him again – softly, on the side of the mouth, but then more hungrily as he turned his head and chased her lips.

Reality is complicated; unfairly so, at times.

Which was the only thing Solace could think of when, about two seconds later, Laine walked in on them. Again.

A
t first, all any of them could do was stare. Then Solace and Evan both moved at once, scrambling up and tripping over one another’s feet. Solace burned with guilt and embarrassment, in marked contrast to Laine’s pinched, plastic shade of pale.
She said it was okay. But she didn’t mean this. Did she
?

Oh, yes
, the Vampire Cynic sneered.
I’m sure this is just what she had in mind.

‘Don’t get up,’ said Laine, in a strangled sort of voice. ‘Not on my account.’

Evan flinched. ‘Laine –’

‘Don’t.’ She broke the word off, chipping it against her teeth. ‘Just don’t, all right? I don’t need this.’

‘We were going to tell you,’ Solace said, lamely.

She didn’t dare look at Evan. The bond between them crackled.

‘
Oh
,’ said Laine. Sarcasm dripped from her like poison. ‘Well! That makes it better. I’m touched. I really am. Why should intention have anything to do with it? Thinking about other people, I mean, it’s just so
difficult
. Of course I understand!’

A mingled look of hurt and outrage flashed over Evan’s features. ‘If you weren’t fine after what happened, you should’ve said so!’

‘You’re a mind-reader!’ Laine shouted. ‘You’re actually a bloody mind-reader! What sort of excuse is that,
you should’ve said so
? You should’ve
known
so!’

‘If I should’ve known so, then so should you!’

‘Guys,’ said Solace, glancing nervously between them, ‘maybe we should calm down –’

‘What, like it’ll be any different for you?’ Laine snapped, visibly fighting to control herself. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter, but still tense. ‘This can’t work, what you’re doing. You have to see that. The bond you have won’t let it. Don’t look so shocked,’ she snapped, at their startled expressions. ‘Why is it so easy for everyone to forget what I am? You’re thick with it, both of you!’ She drew a deep breath, then carried on. ‘But that’s not the point. Being alongside someone’s mind, sharing with them when you have no control – when you
can’t
have control – it’s not an open door. It’s a barrier, understand? No privacy, no mystery, but still secrets. It won’t work. It can’t. You should know that.’

This was directed squarely at Evan. He opened his mouth to answer but Solace got there first.

‘I’m not you,’ she said – and immediately regretted it. ‘We’re not the same, I mean.’ She winced. ‘It’s not the same at all. We’re friends, Laine. I didn’t want to hurt you. You say we didn’t think, and you’re right. We need to sort this out.’

Laine glared at her. ‘What, so you can thrall me again?’

Solace gaped. ‘So I can
what
?’

‘You heard me! You did it to Manx when we were having lunch – not that I wasn’t grateful, I admit that, but you didn’t even realise the first time, when we were outside the satyrs’ grove.’

Solace opened her mouth to deny it, but couldn’t.
Lead on, Laine.
That’s what she’d said. A harmless command.

‘It was an accident.’ She gripped her hands together. ‘I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, Laine. Believe me, if I’d known –’

But the psychic cut her off. ‘My job here is not to offer forgiveness. You have to earn it. I’m sorry my being upset is an inconvenience, but rather than trying to make yourself feel better, the least you could do is exhibit some casual regret.’

‘Fine,’ snapped Evan, ‘we’re regretting, okay? Chock full of regret.’

Solace baulked at his tone. ‘You don’t need to –’

‘What?’ He gave an angry roll of his shoulders. ‘You’re not a villain, and neither am I! I mean, yes, the literature is pretty solid on my being a massive idiot, and Laine, I’m sorry for how I treated you – I really, really am – and I know it’s hard for you right now, with Paige and Harper and everything you’ve had to keep bottled up, but don’t take it out on us!’

It was like he’d dropped a bomb. The room felt still, so that every breath seemed at once to be frozen and magnified.

Solace was caught in a moment of exquisite emotional dexterity. The shock and hurt in Laine’s expression made her feel like a traitor. But she didn’t want to be angry at Evan, either, even though his carelessness in revealing her secrets was monumental. She realised that Laine was close to crying. Paige and Harper had begun to fix themselves, but the psychic was still broken, cracked into fragments like a trodden-on seashell beneath the weight of a secret she’d carried for too long. More than anything, Solace wished she’d found the courage before now to tell Laine what they knew. Maybe it might have made a difference.

But now, they’d never know.

‘When did you find out?’ Laine asked dully. ‘How?’

Evan stared at the floor. ‘Since the Castalian spring. Solace had an aftershock vision. I was there. It bonded us, I guess, or our magics. That’s what you’ve been sensing. And when it happened, we both saw … it was enough.’

‘Oh,’ said Laine.

Before Solace could muster her thoughts, the door of the suite burst open for a second time. All three jumped, staring at the intruders. It was Anise, with Duchess clinging grimly to her companion’s blue-skinned shoulder. Anise’s eyes were wild, her wings half-lifted in agitation, while Duchess’s fur stood on end.

‘Come with us, Eleuthera. Now.’

Evan bristled. ‘What about us?’

‘Stay or go, it does not matter. Someone will collect you. But Solace, you must come
now
!’

‘What –’ began Laine, but Solace was already shoving past her, fear clenched tight in her heart. As though she’d been doused in ice water, every pore of her skin was tingling. Anise paused only long enough to establish that Evan was also following, then hurried back into the Rookery halls. The door slammed shut on Laine, leaving the psychic alone in the suite. Solace felt a pang of guilt about that, but whatever had happened would have to come first, Anise’s urgency having subsumed their squabble like a molehill lost in a landslide.

‘What about the others?’ she asked Anise, struggling to keep pace. Despite her slight stature, the alien woman was capable of great speed, even with Duchess clinging to her.

‘They will be collected,’ she replied. ‘Taken elsewhere. For this, only you are required.’

Evan shot her a worried glance.

‘Lobby,’ he murmured. With a jolt, Solace realised he was right: Anise was leading them back to the marble space through which they’d originally entered the Rookery. At the top of the stairs, Solace caught her breath. Liluye and Sharpsoft were bent over a tiny figure, their bodies obscuring all but a pair of small, bare feet and a hint of freckled leg. As they reached the foyer floor, the proprietor stepped back, her gold eyes bright with a mixture of tears and fury.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered.

Solace couldn’t breathe. Staring up at her was a slender girl, her Minnie Mouse nightgown soaked with blood from the neck down – blood that was still flowing, despite Sharpsoft’s strong fingers clamped around the wound in her throat. Clumps of redness matted her raggedy plaits. Her skin was the colour of chalk. Too weak to stand, the girl was lying on the cold marble, pain and fear turning her brown eyes dark.

It was Luci, Solace’s youngest foster-sister. And if her blood loss and the reactions of the others was anything to go by, she was dying.

In seconds, Solace was beside the girl, gathering her into an embrace. Wildly, she stared at Sharpsoft, at Liluye. ‘Help her!’ Then, to Luci: ‘Who did this to you? Sweetie?’